


Justice

by lea_hazel



Series: The Ride of the Knight of Flames [3]
Category: Original Work, Tarot (Divination Cards)
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, Community: purimgifts, Gen, Heresy, Internal Conflict, Loss of Faith, Religious Conflict
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 23:19:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13774725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lea_hazel/pseuds/lea_hazel
Summary: Hunter Farah and Priestess Itee have a great deal to discuss.





	Justice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RobberBaroness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobberBaroness/gifts).



The temple was tiny, much smaller and more provincial than the one Farah had escaped, all those years ago. Escaped, she says, because that was what it felt like. It felt like she'd been trapped, and through daring and ingenuity succeeded in worming her way out of the trap that had been laid out for her. Over the years she had revisiting those memories, she discovered that the truth was anything but. No one was chasing her. No one, in fact, remembered that she existed, or that she had once been a member of the Moon cult.

And not just a member but an acolyte. Much like the ones who were even now sinking into the tangled bushes that surrounded the temple, trying to escape notice. Whether by herself or by the priestess who she was addressing, Farah didn't know. Probably herself. She was, after all, the stranger invading their home. She supposed they had plenty of cause to fear her. Farah could live with that. She wasn't here for them, anyway. They were now as disposable as she'd been back then. Every acolyte could be easily replaced with another naive village child.

"Why did you come here, stranger?" asked the priestess, from the lofty perch of her little bench, which she rested upon as though it were the most exalted throne in the grand temple in Spyria.

Stranger. As though she were just any soldier come up from the lowlands in search of victory and glory in battle.

"I came to seek justice," said Farah in reply.

The answer came to her easily, as though she hadn't been seeking it for over half her life. As though it had been sitting on the tip of her tongue, only waiting for the right question to be asked. Justice was what she sought, what she needed to put her heart at ease. She would not rest easy until she'd found it. The Hunters could not give it to her, although gods all knew they had tried. Captain Elden and the Toris riders couldn't, either, although she'd vowed to fight their war and she would not go back on her word.

"Your armies stand at my gates," said the priestess, "threatening to invade my country and raze my temples. And _you_ come seeking justice from _me_?"

Farah straightened her back and raised her chin. "Perata attacked Toris," she said. "Your generals sent their raiding parties into the lowlands. They burned fields and villages. Did you expect that such a provocation would go unanswered?"

"Did you expect, _Hunter_ ," spat the priestess, "that your band of heretics could ride into our valleys and hunt out sacred beasts, and the goddess would not take offense?"

"Who are you to take offense in the goddess's name?" demanded Farah.

"I am High Priestess Itee, anointed one of the Mother Temple of the Moon Goddess in Spyria, home of Her chosen ones, and vessel of Her living word."

"Did you rehearse that?" asked Farah.

"Extensively," answered Itee, "in my training as a priestess, years before you were born."

"The great temple of the goddess in Moonhenge," said Farah dryly, "will be very surprised to hear that a living vessel of the goddess has been located."

Priestess Itee's face crumpled into an expression of utter rage and disgust. "Who are you, Hunter Farah, to lecture me about the goddess's will? What do you know of our temples, our rituals, and our ways?"

"I used to be one of you," said Farah softly.

Their silent spectators had apparently not yet retreated to the relative safety of the chapel, because she could hear a small chorus of gasps. She almost wished that she could sit and talk with them, explain to them who she was and how she had come to leave her temple. It was impossible, and Farah knew that, but it didn't stop her wishing for it. They would never have listened to her, anyway, even if their fathers and brothers hadn't been even now preparing for war against Farah and her allies.

"All over the world," said Farah, when a response was not forthcoming, "people worship the goddess of the moon, in manners and rituals so many and varied that I could describe them for hours. I've traveled everywhere in this world, and I've seen it with my own eyes. Can you say the same? Can you, Priestess, truly reject their ways so thoroughly without giving them the benefit of the doubt?"

"Heretics," said Itee flatly.

Farah sighed, but she couldn't honestly say that she was surprised.

"You made your choice, Hunter Farah," said the priestess. "Many years ago, by the look of you."

Farah nodded silently. She didn't resent the judgment; it was accurate, after all.

"What made you return now?" asked Itee, her eyes narrowing. "Is it the war?"

"Of course it's the war!" said Farah heatedly.

Priestess Itee smiled coldly. "Is the mighty hunter feeling pangs of conscience," she asked, "for turning on her once countrymen? Do you dread to meet your brothers on the field of battle? You should have thought of that before you provoked the wrath of the goddess."

"If the goddess were truly aggrieved with me," said Farah, equally coldly, "she would have smote me on the very day I first slew one of your sacred beasts."

In the silence that followed she could hear the rustling of pine needles and the calls of mountain birds. No one spoke, not the priestess Itee and not her timid acolytes, who were possibly still eavesdropping from the shadows. Farah felt the weight of her confession like a mantle that had been resting on her shoulders, now slipping slowly to the ground.

"I can do nothing for you, heretic," said Itee, her voice laden with venom. "Leave this place, before I call for our soldiers to hunt you down like the animal you are."

Quietly, Farah descended the stone steps to where her mount was tethered, and made her way back to the third company's last known encampment. All the way there she chewed over her meeting with Itee. Did she find the justice she sought? She didn't really know. She thought she might sleep better tonight, though, than she had last night. Assuming Captain Elden didn't send her packing for insubordination, that is.

[ ](https://imgur.com/TXuMVhk)

[Image description: yellow paper cut out of scales representing justice.]


End file.
